THE ROAD IS OUR AGONY, BUT ALSO OUR DAILY BREAD - -
- a series of memorable and forgettable rants, ramblings, and stories from the road. . .

Friday, November 03, 2006

and now, for something completely different . . .

coppi versus bartali at the 1949 tour of italy

i spend an hour or more every morning reading over my morning grits--or oatmeal--, vitamins, and coffee. recently, i've re-read the entire harry potter collection [always do, in anticipation of the next release], and just yesterday i completed an intriguing novel entitled "the time traveller's wife," which i think was in some small part responsible for the funk i've been in lately . . .

. . . as i cope with the constant pain from my ribs, lung and shoulder, the effects the pain meds have had on my weird sleep situation [i'll do a thing about my narcolepsy at some point in the future; it's a good one, as folks who know it will attest], the effect the end of daylight savings time is having on all that, plus the change of season [which is generally a great time for me, but...] in light of my inability to ride like i want to, plus the struggle to get back into the shape that i was in just four f*cking weeks ago--end of rant. i'll reduce font size now for all that previous ranting . . .

. . . i thought i'd read something more likely to get me more cycling-oriented, and this is what i grabbed from my library. it's an accountby dino buzzati, who is described as the tome wolfe of italy, which is good enough for me, at least at 600 am for grits and coffee. the book was originally published as daily installations for italian newspapers, the only way folks could follow the race without actually being there every day. the accounts are gripping, and filled with homeric analogies and references.

i'll do it with brief, daily summaries of the race. they will NOT be as long as this, believe me.

and now, to our story . . .

it seems that, with the exception of the riders from the farms, unaccustomed to sea travel, the bulk of the giro party travels to the start aboard the ocean liner "saturnia." he imagines the dream a gregario [domestique] might have...of breaking away, ala landis, on an impossibly steep climb, and being allowing to so do, ultimately winning the stage, and eventually the giro, by over an hour. "but perhaps it's not like that. it may be that even these fantasies are denied him, for even in his sleep, he remains a poor gregario, simply sleeping, like a beast of burden . . . because he has no hopes. so then, it is better to just sleep. sleep and nothing else. and that he dreams of nothing."